James was ushered into Holt’s townhouse as Mr. Ronald Ternberry was exiting.

"Good morning, Angelford," Ternberry said, "I wasn’t aware you had scheduled an appointment with Lord Holt today."

"I wasn’t under the impression I was required to go through you to visit. "

James stepped past Holt’s banal secretary, not waiting for a response. Ternberry had an exaggerated notion of his own importance and probably assumed James would consult him next time.

Holt was seated at his desk and rose when James entered his study. The older man didn’t appear surprised to see James, although his words belied it.

"Angelford, didn’t expect to see you here until our meeting next week."

"Thought I’d stop by to see how the debriefing went yesterday."

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Chalmers said he filled you in on the details this past week."

"Yes, we discussed it the other night, although I would like to have been present at the meeting."

Holt stroked his chin and sat. "I figured as much, but needed you to look into the trouble we are having in the north with the smugglers. Ternberry will send you the notes from Chalmers’s debrief."

"Have you put Stephen onto something new?"

Holt nodded. "Chalmers is doing some extended work and Roth is nosing into another matter for me. Otherwise, we’re in a bit of a lull."

Lull? If there were ever a lull, Holt would probably shoot himself like Castlereagh had. The man thrived on intrigue and titanic schemes, and where there were none, he created them.

"Stephen didn’t mention he was leaving again so soon," James said.

"He wasn’t supposed to." Holt smiled.

Holt had been in charge of the unit for fifteen years and was a tight-lipped soul. James was the same way, but found it an annoying trait in others. He didn’t expect Holt to elaborate, although if he pushed, Holt would probably relent. But something still didn’t feel right. The hesitation held him back from mentioning Stephen’s note or pushing the matter.

"Well, then, good day. I will see you next week."

Holt nodded, returning his attention to the papers on his desk as James let himself out.


"How invigorating. I swear the new play has made me a hermit. It’s time I had a little fun."

Calliope smiled. Deirdre had been chattering for the past hour.

"I’m glad you are going, Dee. Someday I will l get you to quit the stage and collaborate with me."

"La, if it means being squired about by men who look and act like Stephen, count me in."

Calliope chuckled as she slid the final pin into the mass of raven hair piled on top of Deirdre’s head.

Stephen had procured an invitation for Deirdre to attend the masquerade as well. Only Robert would be missing from their foursome. Regrettably, he had accepted an invitation to the country for two days of hunting.

It was a shame Robert would not be present. A masquerade made it easy to conceal one’s identity, and the four of them would have been able to converse and gallivant quite freely with no one the wiser.

"Mother met Father at a masquerade, you know. It was love at first sight. Or first masked sight, at least. " Dee laughed. "He swept her out of there before any of the young bucks claimed her. It was quite a daring feat too." Deirdre’s voice rose excitedly as the tale progressed. "Why, he…"

Her voice became a pleasant hum in Calliope’s head. Calliope didn’t need to listen to recite the story back in detail. She had heard it many times. In an acting family, storytelling was a beloved pastime. The more theatrical the yarn, the better.

Calliope’s own adventure at the Killroys’ ball had proven a hit with the family. The story was deemed a "classic" directly after its first telling. She had been asked to retell it more than once in the last few weeks. The seal of approval, which was given when someone else in the family retold a story, had come just last week when the youngest Daly boy decided to embellish the tale.

"… and then she slapped him for taking liberties. Ah, but she was really hoping he would take them again. And so he…" Deirdre blithely continued.

Calliope arranged Deirdre’s mask and perched a jaunty feather in her upswept hair. She glanced critically in the mirror, trying to see if she had missed anything. Deirdre was gowned in green and gold, a devastating combination with her dark hair, dark eyes and fair skin. She looked gorgeous. Calliope couldn’t wait for the reaction.

Her own outfit consisted of a smartly cut black and red costume with a domino. Deirdre and she had dressed differently, but with the goal to attract attention together. She was confident they would succeed.

Deirdre heaved a dramatic sigh. Always the performer, she placed a hand upon her chest. "… And then they were married. Such a splendid ending to a wonderful tale."

"Marriage is always a nice way to end such tales."

Deirdre tried to hide her face in a powder puff, but Calliope saw the abashed look spread on her face and was immediately contrite. It wasn’t Deirdre’s fault that Calliope’s parents had never married.

She put her arm around Dee. "That was peckish. And it’s not a night for peckishness. Let’s go set the gentlemen on their ears."

Dee responded with a quick squeeze as they gathered their props and headed downstairs.

"Have a good night, miss. Miss." Grimmond nodded to both of them as they were bustled into the small coach Stephen had provided for when he was unavailable.

Deirdre revived her earlier gaiety and chattered excitedly as the coach swayed over the cobblestones. Her mood was contagious and Calliope felt a curl of anticipation.

They arrived to a flourish of color and noise, waiting excitedly for each carriage to unload its passengers and move on. In turn, they breezed up to the door, handing their invitations to the door attendants, who ushered them into a brightly lit foyer. Tonight there were no grand announcements enumerating the names of the guests. Identities were to remain secret until the moment of revelation much later in the evening. Calliope and Deirdre were encompassed in the din.

They descended the staircase slowly and absorbed the raucous scene. The room was warm and smelled faintly of wine and perfume. Revelers in every shape and size littered the floor. A small group of brightly plumed ladies paraded at the bottom of the steps to the left. A cluster of gaily attired gentlemen leered at them on the right. Couples danced in the center and their bright kaleidoscopes of hues were dazzling as they twirled in rhythmic circles. Across the ballroom, near the patio, huddles of people conversed and drank refreshments while groups of men fondled ladies who were indiscreetly flaunting their wares.

Since tonight’s masquerade was being hosted by a group of gentlemen, Calliope thought it should prove to be a lively night. She knew many of the demimonde and some of the more notorious women of the ton were supposed to attend. If the current display was any indication of later events, her pen would fill countless sheets and have a mind of its own in the morning.


Off to the side, James perused the masked guests passively. A few frolickers had discarded their masks, abandoning pretense for drinking and carousing. Others continued their flirtations in disguise. At one time he had loved these debaucheries, but tonight he was on a mission.

The woman in black and red caught his attention. She and another lady in green and gold were chatting with three gentlemen. The pair was striking. They appeared to be good friends and shared glances passed between them.

It was Miss Stafford. He would know her anywhere. She wore a classic gown with a lowered waistline. It was a style she preferred. Evocative without baring anything. The mere hint of her skin was more enticing and provocative than the frilly gowns the women wore that barely kept their assets concealed. If he concentrated, perhaps he could smell her perfume from here.

The other lady took to the dance floor, leaving Miss Stafford with the remaining two admirers. There was still no word from Stephen. Where in the devil was he?

One of the admirers appeared to be getting a bit too free with his hands and James frowned. He found himself walking toward the trio. "Dear lady, would you honor me with this dance?"

She paused and studied him for a moment before acquiescing. He twirled her onto the dance floor. She fit perfectly in his arms, soft yet strong. In all the times he had seen her at routs, he had never seen her dance. But as he reflected back, no one at those starchy ballrooms would have invited the dowdy Miss Stafford, lady’s companion with a cane, to dance.

Her light perfume wrapped around him and squeezed. The thought of anything of hers wrapped around him made his heart beat faster. She relaxed as he pulled her to him and made a circuit about the room.


Calliope was breathless. Angelford twirled her about, and she let herself melt into the movements. She had spotted him across the room earlier, instinctively knowing he would seek her out. The lights in the room became a blur as everything but Angelford receded from view.

She absorbed the spirit of the masquerade and pretended they were two people meeting for the first time. What a dashing suitor. Midnight eyes seared through her and soft lips curved into a smile. Lips like those were definitely…

"Are you enjoying yourself tonight, Esmerelda?"

Calliope missed a step. "Lord Angelford, I didn’t know you recognized me."

"My dear, I would recognize you in sackcloth."

She didn’t answer and he drew her in more closely, branding her everywhere they touched.

"Did you sleep well last night? Finn mentioned you prepared a tasty breakfast." His warm breath tickled her ear as he spun her and leaned closer. "It seems you have many surprising skills."

Heat kindled inside. His fingers trailed up her left arm.

"Have you heard from Stephen?" he asked.

"He said he would meet me here tonight, but I have yet to see him." Her voice was husky.

Angelford nodded thoughtfully.

The waltz ended too quickly and he returned her to her entourage. Bowing low, he kissed her hand and disappeared into the crowd.

Dancing was a heady experience, made all the more so by the proximity of her skillful partner and adversary. His strong lead made dancing easy, even with her temperamental leg.

After that first dance, she was in much demand. For the next two hours she laughed and chatted with nameless, faceless people. She found it novel that the men attended her in much the same manner they did the popular debutantes, only with more provocative suggestions and behavior.

But as the hour grew later and Stephen still hadn’t arrived, worry for him overrode the fun.

Calliope declined dances, instead choosing to scan the crowd. Her court, along with Deirdre’s, remained loyal, providing beverages and sweets, and reciting outrageous poems and even more outrageous requests.

"My dear, you must allow me to be by your side at the unveiling. Nothing would give me more pleasure," said the man she had identified as Lord Pettigrew.

"May I also offer my services to unveil you?" said Lord Roth, laughter in his voice.

"He’s a wastrel, my lady. just like a baron to have a girl in every shire. I would be a much better choice," intoned a disguised Mr. Ronald Ternberry.

"Ah, but you are a complete boor, Ronnie. The lady needs excitement. " Roth’s posture was lazy as he nettled Ternberry. She had the distinct impression it was one of his favorite pastimes, and if perhaps the real reason he was part of her court.

Other voices were raised in chorus.

"Alas, you are all worthy," Calliope said, "but l if I have given my pledge to another. "

Groans met her statement.

A squat, gravelly-voiced man in a jester costume approached their group with a note. "Mademoiselle, I was told to hand this to you."

She murmured her thanks and opened the note, concealing its contents from the others.

Mademoiselle,

I have discovered information on Stephen’s whereabouts. Please meet me in the garden

Angelford

Why hadn’t he just approached her directly? The man was strange and proving to be as secretive as she. The word "please" in the note was unexpected. She shrugged and excused herself from the group. Deirdre was occupied with a charming young man and appeared to be having a grand time, so Calliope signaled that she would return and then headed for the gardens.

A chill hung in the spring air. Calliope shivered and peered into the darkness. Couples were engaged in all sorts of licentious behavior on the terrace. She restrained a blush at one enthusiastic duo and searched for Angelford’s all-black attire.